


Chime - Click

by Donatello7



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Crew as Family, Drax being awesome, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kink Meme, Psychological Torture, Sleep Deprivation, Team Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donatello7/pseuds/Donatello7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some more Kink-Meme Procrastination. Prompt posted by an anonymous OP.  http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/2727.html?thread=1379239#t1379239</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Peter is captured and held for whatever reason by whoever. His captors decide that the best way to break him mentally and physically is to keep him awake for days on end. </b></p><p> </p><p>  <b>By the time the others come rescue him he's been awake for at least a couple of days and is not at his most coherent (hallucinating, feverish, mumbling, etc) but he can't allow himself relax; he keeps thinking he has to stay awake. The others have to help him realize that he's safe and it's okay to go to sleep now. Peter is stubborn until the very end.</b></p><p> </p><p>  <b>Bonus if it ends in a big cuddle puddle on the floor of the Milano because the only way to convince Peter that he's safe and it's okay to go to sleep is for all of them to be touching/holding him.</b></p><p> </p><p>I deviate from the prompt slightly, but hopefully it is still okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chime

“Come on Tivan. This is batshit insane even for you.”

 

“Oh my dear former friend.” Tivan said quietly, studying the nails on his hand before regarding the currently restrained Quill with a sideways glance. “I believe that the people of your homeworld have a saying. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

 

With his head, arms, ankles and waist all bound to one of the two dentist chair type contraptions that the room held, Quill couldn’t see what the collector was up to when he walked around behind him, and couldn’t help the flinch as a hand brushed his shoulder. “You survived contact with an infinity stone. I know of no living being who has managed such a feat. Which means that you, now, are perhaps the most important person in the universe.”

 

He stepped back round to Quill’s line of vision. “Because the stone would have shown you. It would have called out to its brothers and sisters in the galaxy.” He leant forward, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “And they would have called back. And said where they could be found.”

 

“If you think I’m going to tell you where they are, then you’re even crazier than I thought.”

 

Tivan smiled. “Oh I know that you are going to tell me exactly where they are. Because you see, my dear former friend, I know you. I know you very well.”

 

He steps back, and clicks his fingers.

 

Two masked men march into the room, holding between them a young Krylorian woman, dressed in the same outfit that Carina had worn, before she disintegrated.

 

“Master, please, I beg of you.” The woman cried as the two masked men proceeded to bind her to the second of the two chairs. She screamed as the bindings were tightened around her head, forcing her gaze to fix on Quill’s with pleading eyes.

 

“In my line of work, Mr Quill, you learn to be very, very patient. And that is what I will be now.” He holds up a small remote, little more than a silver stick with a button on the end. With his other hand he points to the ceiling of the room, and a chime sounds out throughout.

 

As the sound fades, Tivan clicks the button. “Now I am going to give you a gift. The gift, is a choice. When the chime sounds…”

 

And it did.

 

A second, and then both Quill and the woman sat opposite screamed as pain flowed through them. It was blinding, stealing the air from their lungs until the screams became silent. Finally, Quill hears the click of the remote, and the pain fades to a dull, uncomfortable ache in every single muscle he has.

 

“...then you world becomes quite unbearable. This remote, is the power to stop the pain. Just click it when you hear the chime. If you don’t, well it will take an hour for you to die.” He smiles. “So now you choose. You choose to tell me what I wish to know, or you choose to condemn yourself and the lovely Dareena here, to a slow, agonizing death.

 

Dareena started to sob, shaking her head as much as she could in the binds. “Master, please.”

 

“Choose.” He carefully attached the remote to the armrest beneath Quill’s hand, in reach of his thumb. “I think I will return in two days.”

 

The chime sounded, and Quill quickly hit the button on the remote, letting out a sigh of relief when no pain came.

 

“I look forward to meeting you again soon, my former friend.”

 

Soon the room was empty, the only sound Dareena’s quiet sobs, the regular chime, and Quill clicking the remote.

 

“It’s going to be okay.” He said. “My friends, they’ll already be looking for me. We just have to hang tight, okay?”

 

She nodded as much as she could in the restraints, but her expression was still one of desperate upset and fear. “I don’t want to die.”

 

“You won’t. I promise. I just have to press this button here, and we’re good.”

 

As if to demonstrate the point, he hit the remote again as the chime filled the room.

 

“I thought I pleased him.”

 

Quill squirmed slightly in his chair. “Trust me. This isn’t your fault. And I’m sorry you’ve been pulled into this. But like I said, my friends will get us out.”

 

She started to sob again. “How long?”

 

Quill didn’t answer, because he couldn’t. “My name’s Peter. Peter Quill.”

 

“Dari.” She said. “My friends call me Dari. Or they did. I just thought - I thought...”

 

“Hey Dari.” Quill said, smiling.

 

* * *

 

How long has it been. Hours? Days?

 

Dareena has been asleep for some time, her desperation finally giving way to post adrenal exhaustion. Quill doesn’t blame her. He at least has some semblance of control (however laughable) over the situation, whereas she is completely at his mercy.

 

“I’m an alligator.” He sings under his breath, not wanting to wake Dareena. “I’m a mama-papa coming for you. I’m the space invader.”

 

Chime. Click.

 

“I’ll be a rock and rolling bitch for you. Keep your mouth shut. You’re squawking like a pink monkey bird. And I’m busting my brains for the words.”

 

Chime. Click.

 

“Keep your electric eye on me babe. Put your ray gun to my head. Press your…”

 

Chime.

 

Quill woke screaming, barely aware of the other scream in the room as his mind frantically grasped at control of his hand, thumb slamming onto the remote. Tears ran down his own face as he looked up at Dareena. “I’m sorry. I’m so - I - I’m sorry.”

 

Dareena shook her head, unable to speak for the ache that now filled them both.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll stay awake, Dari. I won’t fall asleep again.”

 

* * *

 

He made the same promise the second time.

 

* * *

 

He made the same promise the third time.

 

* * *

 

After the fourth, he found it easier to keep his promise. He stopped feeling tired. Instead, the closest term he could think of to describe his state was drunk. He honestly felt like he had downed a dozen shots, and the feeling was almost euphoric. The headache wasn’t as welcome, or the way his eyes blurred if he didn’t blink on occasion.

 

“I call you up. Don’t get me wrong. Don’t think you’ve - think you’ve - think you’ve…”

 

Chime. Click.

 

* * *

 

“Where are the infinity stones?”

 

Chime. Click.

 

“Can’t tell you.” Peter screwed his eyes shut - NO! Stay awake. He had to stay awake. He couldn’t sleep yet.

 

“Disappointing. But not unexpected. You truly are the hero that your reputation makes you out to be. But - not for much longer. Two more days.”

 

* * *

 

“Peter Quill?”

 

“Stone age - think - love. And strange sounds…”

 

Chime.

 

“PETER QUILL!”

 

Click.

 

Dareena let out a breath that she hadn’t even realised she was holding.

 

“M’wake.” Quill mumbled, barely coherent.

 

Chime. Click.

 

Chime. Click.

 

Chime. Click.

 

“St-awake.” He told himself.

 

Chime. Click.

 

Chime. Click.

 

And then, the explosion.

  
  



	2. Click

The only conclusion that Dareena could come to was that the situation had succeeded in driving her completely and utterly mad. Because she was currently looking at a talking raccoon wearing a bizarre custom Nova Corps uniform, and carrying a rifle.

 

“Dey, need help with this one?” The raccoon pointed at Dareena with a thumb over his shoulder. Opposite Dareena, Peter Quill appeared to be only barely conscious of the room around him. He didn’t react when two more people, a green woman and a large purple giant of a man, approached the chair, working on his restraints.

 

He didn’t react, until the green woman tried to take the remote in his hand.

 

“No!” Peter Quill screamed the word, and suddenly he was in a full blown panic attack that he didn’t have the energy to sustain, reducing him to a trembling wreck in the chair. “No-got to listen-got to-stay awake.”

 

Dareena closed her eyes as the chime filled the room, but no pain came. The Terran had hit the remote just in time.

 

“Ma’am.” The fourth man, the one that she heard the raccoon call Dey, knelt in front of her. “My name is Denarian Dey, I’m with the Nova Corps.” He pointed to the lit logo on his chest. “My friends and I are here to get you out.”

 

Overcome, Dareena started to laugh with relief and cry at the same time. “He said his friends would come.”

 

Dey nodded, moving out of her line of vision to help the raccoon work on her restraints. Dareena couldn’t get out of the chair fast enough when she was free, but she was weakened by hunger and thirst and would have hit the ground had Dey not been there ready for her to bolt. He caught her effortlessly, and carefully brought her down to kneel on the ground. “We’ll help you out, okay.”

 

Dareena nodded, watching as Peter Quill was lifted into the arms of the purple brute, carried like a sleeping child out of the room. Except that he wasn’t sleeping. And he was still clutching the remote in a death grip, pressing it quickly as another chime sounded.

 

“Thank you, Peter Quill.” Dareena whispered after him, clutching at Dey’s coat as it was gently placed around her shoulders. “Thank you.”

 

“Is there anyone that we can contact for you, Ma’am?” Dey asked as he helped Dareena back to her feet.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t heard the chime in a while. Had he stopped hearing it? Had he fallen asleep? No. NO! He had to-they tried to take the remote away again. NO! He screamed, pulled it back. Held it close. His hands were free? When did that happen?

 

“M’awake Dari, M’awake.” He muttered. He couldn’t see her anymore. He saw, others. He knew them. Why was it so hot in here?

 

Someone took his coat from him. His shirt. Trousers. He was dressed in softer clothes and lifted again. What were they doing?

 

Again they tried to take the remote. Again he pulled it back. Stop talking! He had to listen. He had to listen for the chime. It could be at any moment. Why was he so hot? And yet he was shivering.

 

* * *

 

“Peter, please.” Gamora said, quietly. “It’s safe now. You can rest. You need to sleep.”

 

She reached for the remote, but the Terran scurried away from her, impacting hard with the back of the bunk. He brought his knees to his chest and rocked, blood shot eyes wide under his clearly fevered brow.

 

“No-can’t. Have to-chime. Pain. Stop-Dari.”

 

“The Krylorian woman is safe on Denarian Dey’s ship.” Drax stated, smiling. “We were able to contact her family. They were most pleased to hear that she is safe and well, and she will be returned to them soon.”

 

Quill’s eyes slipped closed, then flew open again. He panted slightly, desperately trying to wake himself up. “C’nt stop-feeling. Deep inside of-”

 

“I’em Gr’t.” The tiny Groot squealed from his place on the galley table, clearly concerned by the state that Quill was in. Rocket jumped up in to the table beside him, whispering reassurance while Gamora and Drax continued to try and get through to their friend.

 

“Chime.”

 

“It’s over, Peter. The device is gone. Nova Corps are looking for Tivan. Dari is safe. You don’t need this anymore.” Gamora tried one more time to take the remote, and her reinforcing body modifications were probably the only thing that stopped the resulting kick from sending her flying across the Milano.

 

“We’re going to need to sedate him?” Gamora stated as she stood.

 

“Am I the only one on this ship who bothers to read things?” Rocket threw his hands up in the air. “He’s allergic to Xandarian Benzodiadepines. Says it in his medical notes in great big red letters! You want to give him sedative, you might as well shoot him. It’d be kinder.”

 

“Why were you reading our medical notes.” Drax squinted at the raccoon.

 

“Why are you NOT reading them? We don’t exactly live safe lives. Case in point.” He pointed at the Terran. “No sedatives. We’re just going to have to wait for him to pass out.”

 

“Unacceptable.” Drax shook his head. After a moment of standing still with his arms crossed, he turned back to face Rocket. “Little Beast. I require your sound synthesiser. Programmed to recreate the chime in the room where we found Quill.”

 

“Any chance of getting a ‘Please’ with that?” Rocket spat back, even as he jumped over to the small collection of messy shelves that made up his makeshift work area, and started programming the tiny speaker box. Within a moment the chime was sounding, and Rocket held the box up with a sense of pride. “Okay. So why did I just do that, Drax?”

 

On the bunk, Quill flinched, and slammed his thumb down on the remote.

 

“What are you doing?” Gamora muttered. “We’re supposed to be convincing him that he’s safe to sleep.”

 

“And that is what I am doing.” Drax took the box, and carefully sat down beside Quill on the bunk, wrapping an arm around the trembling Terran’s shoulders and drawing him into an embrace. On the next chime, Quill’s thumb hit the remote, but otherwise he seemed to be completely unaware of anything in the room, even as his head fell sideways to rest on Drax’s chest. His breath hitched as a sharp pain shot through his eyes. The struggle to stay awake was on the verge of damaging him permanently, if it hadn’t started to do so already.

 

Quill flinched as Drax’s hand rested over his own, but Drax held their hands still, waiting a moment before moving, not to take the remote, but to simply hold it with the Terran, pushing Peter’s thumb to one side and replacing it with his own. On the next chime, Drax presses the remote. And the next. And the next. All while holding it in front of Quill, letting him watch.

 

Slowly, Quill let go of the remote and looked at Drax, perhaps the most alert he had been since being rescued.

 

“You no longer need to concern yourself with the device, Quill. I will operate the remote while you rest.” When the next chime sounded, Drax pressed the remote, turning his hand to make sure that Quill could see him do so.

 

It took two more demonstrations, but Quill finally started to relax. “G’t-it covered.”

 

“I do indeed have it covered.” Drax said. “I have it covered with my thumb.”

 

Quill shook, too exhausted to even laugh at the literal interpretation. He melted into Drax’s side, sniffing as his body gave in to the exhaustion that he was feeling and the first few tears trickled down his cheeks. Far from minding the physical contact, the larger man tucked his arm under the Terran’s knees and manouvered him. Before long Drax was laying on his back on the bunk, with the crying Quill pillowed against him. Bloodshot eyes remained fixed on Drax’s hand as it rested with the remote on the larger man’s chest.

 

Chime. Click.

 

Quill didn’t react when a blanket was laid over him, or when Gamora gently embraced him from behind, one hand clutching Drax’s belt to secure her precarious perch on the edge of the bunk. Something else was massaging his hair with clawed hands, pulling the fringe away from his eyes and continuing to massage along his scalp in a soothing motion.

 

Chime. Click.

 

“It’s safe.” Gamora whispered. “We are all here. We will keep you safe.” She smiled. “And Drax will keep the pain away for you and Dari. You can sleep now.”

 

No one moved for a while after that, except Rocket as his continued his ministrations of Quill’s scalp. The only sound was Groot singing quietly on the galley table, and the synthesiser. Drax clicked with each chime. It had already become an ingrained habit.

 

“Is he asleep?” Gamora whispered, and the larger man nodded, giving her a small smile.

 

Quill was deeply asleep, his eyes visibly darting under their lids as he hit a REM cycle, and his breathing now coming in soft snores. Gamora gently dried the last few remaining tears from his face with her pad of her thumb, and then pulled the blanket up higher so that Quill was practically cocooned in it. Drax’s smile widened as he watched the scene, enjoying the sight of his friend finally getting the rest that he had so desperately needed, and feeling a sense of pride in having being able to help him in that regard.

 

Chime. Click.

 

“I’em G’rt.” The tiny creature, no bigger than a cat, had removed himself from his pot bed and was now standing on Drax’s sternum, arms reaching for the remote. With one last look at Quill, Drax passed the remote to Groot, who proceeded to click and click and click like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

 

“Amount of units I’ve spent buying toys this month, and THAT is what he wants to play with.” Rocket let out a sigh. “Freaking typical.”

 

Gamora, who was on the cusp of sleep herself, smiled. “We could always donate the toys to the Street Children’s refuge on Knowhere.”

 

“Gamora the philanthropist. Anyone checked the temperature in Hell recently?”

 

“Shh.” Drax held a finger to his lips, and nodded in the sleeping Quill’s direction.

 

Chime.

 

Chime.

 

Chime.

 

“Groot, buddy. Turn that freaking synthesiser off, will yah.”

 

And finally, the sound stopped.

 

 


End file.
